


On the Ledge

by TheFountianPen



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 05:57:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1458457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFountianPen/pseuds/TheFountianPen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Gracie Williams arrived at Hillman-Grant Academy that morning, she never expected her school to be besieged by armed gunman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Ledge

 

On the Ledge

Chapter One:

Hillman-Grant Academy was a sprawling privet school that catered to the children of the islands elite. Enclosed in by forty-foot iron gates equipped with top of the line motions sensors and cameras and a guard booth, it seemed safety was a guarantee. It was one of the few redeeming factors in the eyes of Danny Williams. Having grown up in North Jersey, Danny didn't much care if the cafeteria had a trained Chef or offered Equestrian courses. He had survived the public school system in Hoboken where the closest they got to gourmet food came from the vending machines. So when Rachel and Step-Stan had tried to win him over with the physical education program of Wednesday yoga, he had been less than impressed. What the hell ever happened to dodge ball? Apparently, it was too violent or so said Stan. No a kid could not lob a red rubber ball at their classmates, but they sure, as hell could do downward facing dog. As a last ditch, resort Rachel had thrust the security pamphlet into his hands hoping to forestall a wildly gesticulated tangent. It had been an act of desperation, but it had worked.

The following week he had joined Grace, Rachel, and regrettably Stan on a tour of campus. Stan had been just tickled pink about, what the school dubbed, junior entrepreneur classes. Pompous bastards. Rachel had been quite taken with the introductory language courses as well as the arts program. Grace was thrilled that she could spend forty-five minutes a day with a pony and call it a class. Danny had been the only person in the group who had been blatantly skeptical and argumentative. Tittering nervously their guide, who also happened to be the Vice Principal, had promised to show him anything the school had to offer. Going as far as inviting him to observe one of nutrition and healthy living classes. Danny would have rather had bamboo shoots shot under his fingernails, and he'd said as much.

Rachel had glowered at him.

Stan stammered and flushed an unflattering shade of puce.

Gracie, well she had rolled her eyes and promptly told the Vice Principle her daddy was the best cop on the island.

He had promptly swelled with joy, at the absolute pride in his little monkey's voice.

The Vice Principle had actually squealed like a baby pig, bounced on her toes like a three year old on a sugar high, and clapped her hands in joy. He had been more than a little disturbed by the display, but a truly toxic look from his ex-wife had held his tongue.

That was how they had ended up in, what they obnoxiously, called the bunker. From the doorway, it looked almost like a teachers lounge. With its small bistro, style table pushed up against the cinderblock wall and a tiny kitchenette complete with microwave and coffee maker and a large stainless steel fridge shoved into the corner. It was an easy assumption to make. But if you were to step inside and look to the right, that assumption would be thoroughly squashed. Up against the far inside wall was a setup that reminded Danny of something he'd once seen in Star Trek.

Over fifty sleek, black 20' inch flat screens lined the walls in rows of six angled on supporting adjustable brackets for optimal viewing. The top rows showing a continuous live feed of the grounds and surrounding parameter. On one of the screens, Danny had even seen two stocky men in dark security uniforms patrolling the fence in a shiny white golf cart. The remaining monitors were dedicated to the hallways, the gym, auditorium and important offices. The man manning the screens that day had been a crotchety man in his mid-sixties; a retired naval officer and _Jets_ fan to boot.

Danny had been impressed, and had allowed Rachel to register Grace that day with very little protest. He did however, make his indignation heard when Stan had tried to sign his daughter up for fencing classes. It was bad enough Step-Stan was trying to entice his monkey into tennis lessons at their snooty country club; he was not going to put a weapon in her fragile little hands too. Four hours later, they finally left with an approved lesson course in hand. Monkey had gotten her Equestrian study; Rachel had her ceramics and healthy living courses as well as introduction to Mandarin, and Stan his junior business courses. All Danny had left with was a migraine and peace of mind regarding his daughter's safety.

Even three years later as he drove up to the wrought iron gates of Hillman-Grant, checked in with the guard and was waved up the winding cobble stone drive, that faith in security was the only reason he let Gracie out of the car.

"All right Monkey, you have a good day. And keep away from the business end of those horses, all right?"

Grace rolled her eyes and grinned.

His heart melted like butter in the Hawaiian sun.

"Yes, Danno."

He grinned, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Good, now hugs."

Giggling, she leaned over the center console hugging him tightly. He kissed her dark hair. Pulling away, she grabbed her backpack from the floor and opened the car door.

"Hey, Danno loves you."

"Love you too." She slammed the door, and rushed across the pavement and up the cement steps. As she always did she, turned around just before she slipped in the door grinned happily and waved.

With a sigh, he put the car in drive and made his way out of the congested campus. Cranking the music, he sung loudly along to the Boss, determined to enjoy some Jersey nostalgia before Sergeant Slaughter hijacked his car again. He made good time, pulling into the parking lot of Five-0 headquarters and pulling into an empty space. Still whistling _Thunder Road,_ he locked the car with the key fob, strode up the sidewalk, and smoothed his tie.

By the time, he reached the clear glass door of Five-0 he had graduated to Springsteen's best. Finishing the final verse to _Born to Run_ he pushed open the door and slipped inside.

"Morning Brah. Drop Grace off today?" Office Kono Kalakaua, grinned her dark hair still damp from her morning surf. He approached her at the computer dock, where she was typing away at the touch screen.

"Mhmm, Rachel and Stanley are having a spa retreat in Waikiki. What they need to retreat from, well your guess is as good as mine." He replied with a disgusted eye roll.

Kono whistled. "Wow, swanky. Must be nice to have Grace all to yourself thou."

This time Danny grinned. "The best. So what's this? New case?" He nodded up at the monitors. Upon closer inspection, familiar beady eyes gaze back at him from the flat screen. He remembered that punk thought he was the modern days answer to Billy the Kid.

"Nah, nothing news come in yet. This one's from couple months back, that home invasion ring in Diamond Head. I'm due to testify at the end of the week, and my monitors on the fritz." She crinkled her nose in distaste and jerked her head back toward her office.

"Ah, well better you thank me, so where is Judge Dred? Chumming the waters with suspects? Dangling drug dealer off of buildings by their thumbs?"

She snickered slightly. "Nah…not yet anyway. He had a meeting with the Governor Denning."

"Ah, that explains the solitude. I need coffee. Steve didn't make it this morning did he?" he quested wearily. Any time Steve used the coffee machine the only thing it produced was a toxic caffeinated sludge. McGarrett could perform underwater demolitions without batting an eye, scale walls like Spiderman, and withstand torture, but producing a decent brew was beyond him.

"Don't worry. Chin made a fresh batch. Took him twenty minutes to get the pot clean, but it's safe now."

Danny didn't doubt it. The stuff had the look, constancy, and smell of motor oil. He shivered at the very thought, he made the mistake of it drinking once. In his defense, it had been a late night, and he need caffeine if he had any hopes of not falling asleep at the wheel on his way home. One cup of that and he had been up until dawn watching the shop at home channel. Over caffeinated and beyond exhausted he'd been an easy sell. By the time he crashed at six-thirty the next morning he'd run up a hefty bill on his credit card. A personalized surfboard detailing kit for Kono, she'd been ecstatic and had helped him with his mountain of paperwork as thanks.

The collector's edition model of a 1970 Triumph Bonneville for Chin had gone over like gangbusters. Danny wasn't sure why in his sleep addled mind he believed Max absolutely needed a set of limited edition Yoda salt and peppershakers, but Max had been quite touched-his exact words upon delivery of his unexpected gift. So it had worked out. Gracie was now the proud owner of a stuffed gorilla holding a banana shaped picture frame between its floppy hands. They had even made a special trip to the Honolulu zoo to take a picture in front of the monkey exhibit especially for that frame. Kamekona had very nearly shattered his ribs after he had given him How to grow your Business: the Secrets to Entrepreneurial Brilliance. As a treat for himself, he got the complete theatrical works of Elvis Presley. Sometime during the night, he must have switched to a PBS telethon because two weeks later a model of the USS Arizona that benefited the Pearl Harbor Memorial Fund had been among the stack of packages outside his door. Not that Steve deserved it, after all it was his fault he had racked up over three hundred dollars' worth of purchases, on non-refundable sale items. Danny had been tempted to hand him an itemized bill and keep the model. McGarrett however had bitched like a little girl when everyone else had benefited from his night of insomnia. So he'd forked it over to shut him up. He regretted it almost instantly when Steve had grinned smugly, even though he had thank him that smirk negated the sincere gratitude. It now sat in Steve office, mocking him… silently calling him a schmuck every time he passed it.

Crossing into the break room, he made a beeline for the coffee pot. Pulling two mugs down from the cabinet and two plastic spoons from the box the sink, he filled them with steam black brew. The smell alone was drug to his senses. Grabbing the liquid creamer from the fridge, he poured a splash into his cup and giving it a lite stir. Replacing the creamer, he kicked the door shut with his foot. Seizing a few sugar packets, and the mugs he strode out the door.

With no case to be had and with Steve meeting with the Governor now was the perfect time to catch up on a little paper work. The last thing he needed was to have Denning's secretary Mable, riding his ass for backlogged paperwork. Worse yet ADA Milner. Pausing only to drop off the extra mug and the sugar packets with Kono, he made his way for his office.

Danny was unaware of how long he worked but he had made a nice dent in his back paper work. Scrawling his signature on the LED signature screen with the plastic stylist, he saved his report and uploaded it to the team _SkyDrive_. Sitting back in his chair, he clasped his hand and stretched his arms over his head. He sighed in pleasure as his shoulder cracked satisfyingly. Glancing at his empty mug, he debated a refill when movement caught his eye.

It seemed Steve had finally returned from his meeting. Standing with his back to Danny, dressed in his signature t-shirt, cargo pants, and combat boots combo, he talked in hushed tones with Chin and Kono. Furrowing his brows, he pushed back from his desk and shuffled toward the glass door. From this angle, he had a clear view of Chin and Kono's expressions. Chin's normally affable demeanor was gone, he face now devoid of warmth leaving him all hard angles and rage. Kono on the other hand had a look of quite menace on her face, her dark eyes burning like twin laser beams into McGarrett.

Slipping out into the hallway, he clapped his hands together, "okay since when am I left out of team chats. If were going for another whole bonding thing," he twirled his hands about. "I believe I should have equal say."

Steve turned slowly and faced him. He had aneurism face. Oh, that never boded well for him. Usually it involved grenades or semi-automatic weapons, but it always ended with stiches.

"I'm afraid to even ask, last time you had that look you totaled my car."

Steve sighed, clenching his eyes in regret. "Danny,"

His blood froze. Steve never back down from a jibe, he was not one who let a prime opportunity to needle him go. But he had, and it scared the shit out of him.

"What? I know something is going on so tell me."

Steve closed his eyes as if the very words caused him pain. "There's been a disturbance at Hillman-Grant Academy."

His world spun, Grace oh God what about Grace?

"Grace?" Danny demanded, his eyes blazing with frantic worry.

Kono flinched.

Chin growled.

"I-I don't know…"

He surged forward, eyes wild face red. Fisting the blue cotton material, his knuckles white. With all his might shoved the former SEAL harshly into the wall. "No! My daughter, _my daughter_ Steven…is in that school so you better well know."

With each word, he slammed the taller man back into the wall. Chin and Kono leapt forward each snagging one of his arms, and trying to pull him back. Steve didn't fight him, but regarded him seriously. "I don't know Danny, but we'll find out. Nothing…hey listen to me, nothing is going to happen to Gracie."

Gracie.

His little monkey. Something had happened at her school. He didn't know if she was hurt and waiting for Danno to come make everything okay again. Everything he had ever done since the moment she was born was to keep her safe. From the time, he first brought Grace and Rachel home from the hospital, and she had seen that he had baby proofed the house for a newborn who would not be walking for some time. Rachel had found it hysterical, calling him mad. She found his late night window and door checks less humorous, especially when he wouldn't get home from a shift until the early morning hours. It hadn't stopped him, it only made him hyper aware of what steps creaked and just how far he could nudge open the door before it squeaked. Later it had been following her around as she toddled on pudgy feet, half in a crouch arms outstretched to catch her when she teetered. To soon after that it had been don't talk to strangers, always wear your helmet while on the tricycle; don't jump on the bed, never touch the stove, no matter what your grandfather says you are not allowed to try beer until your thirty…thirty-three. Once she had begun school it had been never wander away from the other kids on the playground, if you saw someone standing at the fence tell the teacher, don't eat paste it'll stun your growth, and alike. The cardinal rule however, was even if she followed every rule and she still found herself somewhere scared and alone, Danno would always find her no matter what. Danny had never wanted to have cause to fulfill that particular promise. To ensure that he had even sent her to that new age school, to keep her safe. With its top of the line security system, and roving sweeps of the grounds, he never thought all his rules would fail her.

Just as quickly, as it had seized him in its grasp, the rage seeped from his bones. Leaving him cold, numb and with a lead weight threatening to tear through his stomach. All his strength waned, his hands went limp and he would have ended a heap on the floor if not for his other two teammates that wound his arms across their shoulders. Kono burrowed slightly into his side, gipping his waist to keep him vertical. "What happened Steven? Tell me." His voice cracked, his eyes watered. Chin squeezed tightly at his shoulder in silent support.

The vein in Steve's temple twitched violently, eyes twin barren wastelands. This was not Steve his friend. This was Super SEAL Steve.

"It came through dispatch, five minutes ago. A 1000hrs a group of armed men breeched the school." Danny heaved, bile burning at the back of his throat. Grace was a hostage. His little girl was some mad man's advantage. He would kill them. Every one of them with his bare hands. If one hair was mussed on her perfect head, they would beg for death.

"How…" he voice was thick and raspy. He cleared his throat. "How do you know?"

Steve shifted. "One of the faculty escaped through a side window."

"Oh God." He whimpered, sagging until his knees were practically kissing the floor. Chin and Kono struggled to hold him up right.

"Ran to the gate, and use the phone in the guard booth to call it in. HPD is securing the area and rounding up the families. Five-0 is running point on negotiation and recovery. SWATS already been mustered and are en-route to the scene."

* * *

Hillman-Grant Academy:

_Thirty minutes earlier:_

Grace Williams scowled as she sat on the hard wooden bench outside Vice Principle Washington's office. Apparently, when Mrs. Larsden had sent them down here she had forgotten that both Ms. Washington and Principle Carver were away from the school today. So she had been forced to wait on the bench just outside the office door, while Mrs. Pullman called down Miss. Nickels the new Guidance counselor who was handling all disciplinary problems.

To her left, she heard a slight sniffle. Slouched with his back against the wall, holding an ice pack to his nose was Travis Wilkins. Travis was a new boy in her History class, who had just moved here from Michigan. Knowing how it felt to be the new kid, she had tried to be nice to him. Inviting him along when she went to visit the school stables, during recess and introduce him to Peaches. Travis didn't like horses, so she had invited him to join her and Gabby at lunchtime. That had been a mistake. Because Travis was a bully, who enjoyed picking on her friend. Gabby Albright was a small girl that always wore her blonde hair in pigtails and was teased mostly because of her weight. So when Mrs. Landers had put them into groups for a project on the founding of Jamestown. She, Gabby, and shy boy named Brady had been paired together and had moved to the back of the room to work on their project.

Travis had followed, leaving his own group behind, just to come over and call Gabby mean names. Grace had told him to go away or she'd tell the teacher, but another group distracted Mrs. Landers. So when Travis had reached over and pulled her friends hair so hard she cried out and her eyes welled with tears, Grace had acted on her own.

Uncle Steve had once told her bullies were cowards. And ones that made little girls cry were even worse. Bullies were afraid of strength, and if you showed them you were tougher and stronger, they'd be the ones who were scared. So that was what she did.

Mrs. Landers had finally noticed them when Travis had screamed. Holding his lightly bleeding nose and crying. Mrs. Landers had scowled as she pulled a packed to tissues from her pocket and place a handful in Travis' hand and pressed his hand up to his nose to stop the bleeding. She hadn't cared about why she had slugged him, hadn't even listened when Gabby and Brady tried to explain. Grace had been sent directly to Ms. Washington's office while Travis had been sent to the nurse.

Mrs. Bradshaw, the school nurse, obviously hadn't wanted him either; because she dropped him off at the office only five minutes later. Telling him to keep the ice on his nose unless he wanted to look like an angry raccoon. Mrs. Pullman had directed him to the other bench with the point of a finger, phone clasped between her ear and shoulder. He collapsed on the other bench pouting, his nose red and puffy beneath the ice bag.

Okay so maybe she shouldn't have punched him. Mom said it was wrong to hit people just because they made her angry. So she probably shouldn't have done exactly what Uncle Steve would do. Danno was always complaining that Uncle Steve didn't have any respect for something called due process, whatever that was. From what Grace was able to understand, it sound like Uncle Steve really like to hit people when he was angry. Now she had gone and done the same thing.

Oh, Mom and Danno was going to be so mad.

Minutes ticked by and Mrs. Pullman poked her head into the hall to tell them Miss. Nickels would be down for them as soon as she finished up with "…another little hooligan who thought it was funny to put super glue on toilet seats."

The bell rang after the longest three minutes of her life, sending a stampede of students flowing into the main halls. Grace sighed; she was going to miss the pep-rally for spirit week. She spotted Gabby and Brady as they made their way toward the gym. Gabby had moved to come talk to her, but Mrs. Pullman who was standing in the doorway shooed her off.

Gabby sniffled and gazed sadly at her before hurrying off down 'B' corridor. Mrs. Pullman watched the stream of students with a sour frown. The older secretary eyed her two charges with suspicion. As if, she expected them to dash off the bench and blend into the crowd.

Grace rolled her eyes. In the three years she had been at HGA Grace had never seen Mrs. Pullman smile or heard her say anything nice. To anyone. The closest had been, "Good morning, sit out there." when Grace had arrived with her note from Mrs. Landers.

Slowly the crowd of chattering students disappeared down the hall. Loud voices and cheers echoed down the hall through the open doors of the gym. With a metallic clang, the doors were pulled shut, and the halls grew quite.

"You ruffians stay put." Mrs. Pullman glared down at them, and disappeared back into her office. Grace fidgeted on her bench, kicking her dangling legs in a bout of nerves. Miss. Nickels was the new guidance counselor, very few of her classmates had met her at least none that Gracie knew. Mr. Robarts, who had retired at the end of last year, had not been a nice man. If someone was sent to his office in punishment, it was seen as worse than a suspension. He was a fan of giving community service to anyone that even bent the rules. Last year Taylor McClain had started a food fight in the cafeteria and he had been given four months of service helping the cleaning staff clean the cafeteria after school. Danno had said it was fair, but Grace had just been worried about angering the guidance counselor.

Across from her perch on the bench, Grace watched as a pretty blonde lady towed a boy about her age down the main staircase.

"Thank you, so much…for not expelling him. I promise you Rodney and I will be having a long talk about this…won't we Rodney?"

Rodney flinched, and flushed red.

A brown haired woman smiled warmly. "I've seen much worse, Mrs. Richards. I'm sure a week of suspension is more than enough. Thankfully the…incident was more embracing than harmful."

Mrs. Richards flushed and glared down angrily at her son. Rodney started down at his feet and scuffed the toe of his sneaker on the floor.

Grace flinched and bit back a whimper.

With another thank you, Mrs. Richards pulled her son toward the main lobby, scolding him the whole way.

Grace had done a lot worse than embarrass someone. She had made Travis' nosebleed. Would they kick her out? Would mom and Danno be as mad at her as Mrs. Richards was at Rodney? Her bottom lip quivered at the thought.

The woman, who must have been Miss. Nickels smiled at her. She looked more like her friend Kylie's older sister, who was a senior in high school, not like a guidance counselor.

Maybe she would understand. She hadn't meant to hurt or embarrass anyone, not like Rodney had.

Miss. Nickels walked forward, the heels of her boots clipping across the floor.

"So you two must be my next customers. Grace and Travis, right?" She smiled, her eyes crinkling.

Grace nodded meekly.

Travis just grunted.

"Alright then, I'm going to take these two offer your hands Mrs. Pullman." Miss. Nickels called out, her voice echoing in around the hall.

"Hallelujah." Mrs. Pullman grumbled from inside. Miss. Nickels rolled her eyes.

"Come on you…."she paused abruptly. Standing in front of the main staircase, the woman could see right into the domed main hall of HGA. Her face seemed to scrunch in an expression Grace didn't recognize. "Get up!"

Grace jumped startled, at the gruff command. But she did as she was told. Travis regarded the guidance consoler as if she were a dog that growled at him, and pressed his back farther against the wall. The smile that she had greeted them with was gone. From inside the office Mrs. Pullman cried out in anger at the disturbance. Miss. Nickels didn't seem to care. She rushed toward them reaching out she grasped Travis by the collar of his shirt, and pulled him up and onto his feet. He wobbled dropping his ice bag. It landed with a splat on the clean tiles. He gasped, looking up at Miss. Nickels terrified. The woman never paused, but hauled him forward and grasping her shoulder propelling her forward toward 'C' hall.

"Run!"

Grace ran.

As she reached the double red wood doors that lead to 'C' hall, the piercing screech of tires echoed throughout the atrium.

Travis cried out for his mom, as he was drug along.

Grace threw the door open, pausing in the doorway unsure where to run too.

Miss. Nickels' seem to understand. "Kitchens run for the kitchen."

Grace didn't question her, even if it didn't make sense. Today was a half-day no one was in the kitchen. The door to the hall slammed behind them. Grace glanced over her shoulder.

Travis had managed to gather his feet underneath him, so the guidance counselor was no longer dragging him, but he looked as if he were about to cry. Behind them, Grace heard five sharp pops. She whimpered. She knew that sound, she had heard it so many times when she and Danno would watch _Die Hard_.

Gunshots.

She whimpered. She wanted Danno, her mom, her Uncle Steve, even Step-Stan. She wanted them to hug her and make her feel safe. Grace wanted to go home, hide under her bed and wait for the fear to go away.

Miss. Nickels quickly caught up with her. Hand still twisted in Travis collar and pushing him to run faster. With his clogged nose, he was huffing and puffing as he ran. His tears had now begun to fall he was scared too.

Miss. Nickels beat her to the door, were she paused for only a second. Holding a finger to her lips, she motioned for them to stay quite. Grace bit her lip, hard determined not to make a sound. The older woman releases Travis, and pushed the door open a crack. The loud pops sound behind the again, this time closer to the door.

Grace's stomach felt sick. Who was hurt? Mrs. Pullman? Mrs. Wendell the Liberian? She did not know, and she wasn't sure she really wanted the answer. Miss. Nickels growled out a curse, Grace had only ever heard Step-Stan use in traffic once.

Edging the door, open Miss. Nickels poked her head through. With a soft sigh, he through the door open and pushed both she and Travis forward.

Pop pop pop

Grace clenched her fists, eyes burning with tears she ran. Legs pumping as fast as she could push them. They were almost there. The kitchen was just one hall over. If they could get there, they would be safe. The halls around her blurred hot tears streaming down her checks, but her pace never faltered.

Grace could now hear the sounds of heavy boots behind her. They were getting closer. Beside her Miss. Nickels was dragging Travis again, who was sobbing softly between gasps.

A pair of sturdy brown doors carved with music notes stood before her. The corridor of the arts. They were close now. The chef's entrance to the kitchen was at the end of the hall, by the heavy iron sculpture of a spatula.

Miss. Nickels spun throwing her back into the door and pushing it open waving them quickly inside.

"Keep going, come on. You're okay Travis your almost there. I promise." The woman whispered to them. Grace grabbed Travis' hand and together they ran down the dead end corridor toward the sculpture. A low click echoed behind them and the quickly clap of heels followed soon after.

There it was. A large blue steel door that promised her safety.

Five steps.

Four.

Three.

Two.

She grasped the handle, set to push it open and fall inside.

"Wait." Came a hiss, from behind them. Grace looked up startled, yanking her hand back.

The small woman patted her pocket, with drawing a small golden key shaped like a fork. She inserted into the lock and gave a slow twist.

"I'm going to go in first and check. You hear me yell, you run. You run, find somewhere to hide. Can you do that?"

Grace whimper, but nodded.

Then she slipped inside the kitchen.

It was quite.

Quite had to be good.

A moment later, the door reopened, and with a look of relief, they were waved inside. Miss. Nickels closed the door behind them. Using her gold key to lock the deadbolt.

"Now, I want you to find somewhere to hide. No, not the pantry Travis, they'll check their first. Try to squeeze in behind the pots. Those are industrial sized there should be enough room for you to lie down in the back."

Travis wheezed, pulling open one of the doors. "Bit…I...thought we…were saf…safe in here."

Miss Nickels pursed her lips, as she hurried over to the laptop on the corner of the island. "We're as safe as we can be, but a little extra precaution is always a good idea."

Grace had to walk around to the other side of the island for her hiding cabinet, as Travis had claimed the one closest to the pantry. Grace wiped her face. Tears still dripping from her eyes, her hands shook, and she felt sick. Miss. Nickels had her back to them as she typed quickly at the computer, clicking an icon on the desktop and bringing up a screen full of videos.

Grace sniffled; she had seen those same videos in the security room.

She remembered it from her tour, on the day mom had registered her. She opened her cabinet but her eyes, stayed on the computer screen. Whatever Miss. Nickels had hit it brought up a login in screen. She logged in and brought up a red screen, typing in a long string of letters and numbers.

A small window appeared. Security Lockdown Protocol Pink.

Grace didn't know what it meant, but Miss. Nickels seemed relieved. She closed the lid on the laptop and moved toward the counter. Beside the sink, sat a large wooden block of knives-just like the ones her mom had on their counter at home. Grace flinched, when Miss. Nickels pulled two of the longest knives from the block. Keeping the smaller one in her right hand, she slipped the second into the back of her belt.

"Miss. Nickels?" Grace questioned weakly.

The brunette turned, to face her. "Yeah kiddo?"

"What's Lockdown Pink?"

The woman closed her eyes and sighed softly moving around the counter to crouch beside her. Reaching out she wiped at her tears with her thumbs. "It's what a staff member is supposed to issue if there was ever a dangerous situation. It shuts down internal access to the cameras. No one can see anything from the security room anymore."

"That's stupid." Travis crawled toward them and said in a thick voice, "How else will we know where they are?"

Grace looked at him, tears were no longer pouring down his face. They had slowed leaving his eyes red and bloodshot, but he was pale and shaking. Just like her.

"If we can see them, they can see us. We may not know where they are, but they don't know where we are either. That the best we can hope for. If they happen to stumble in here, we have the advantage." Miss. Nickels explained gently.

Travis gulped. "Will they find us?"

"I don't know." She smiled sympathetically at them and reached forward pushing large pots and pans out of the way, making a small space for Grace to crawl in.

"Is that why you have the knives?" Grace asked, a fresh trail of tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Yeah Grace, that's what they're for."


End file.
